Honestly, the last thing we wanted to do with our weekend was attend a funeral, yet there we were. But it was for the best, right? The end of Messtival forever?
Truthfully, we will likely never know the exactly what killed Messtival. But we also can’t say we care all that much. The end justifies the means, whatever they were.
Held directly adjacent to Messtival’s longstanding residence in Anagance, New Brunswick, the one-night ceremony was attended by many who begrudgingly showed up to bid adieu to the worst festival that ever was.
The grounds decreased in size this year: no larger than a single stage but still larger than a burial plot. Despite the morbid overtones of the event, the crowd mourned with all the sense of loss typically possessed by looters in a hurricane.
And so, as it was in life, so it was in death, and with technical difficulties pushing the start time later and later, until it seemed we might be able to sneak out unnoticed, it was then that the dirge of instruments filled the air.
Chill Teens took to the pulpit and the crowd closed in; the grim smiles upon their faces, their wild thrashing about, and the odd hula-hoop all belying their true grief.
McKinley, Morrison & Williams may well have taken a wrong turn to end up here on this stage to consoled us with their tasteful jazz fusion, but at least they were conveniently wearing black that day, as though they were already prepared to crash a funeral service.
SHRIMP Ring provided a particular standout element to the ceremony — quite literally they stood out in the middle of everything yell at everyone like some alien evangelicals. Rather than fire and brimstone and wrath brought down upon Loserville to destroy whatever was left of this sinful lot, they had everyone dancing in aisles.
Where are the tears, people? Where are the tears? For shame….
And what is a funeral without a few dampened souls milling about in the pouring rain? After all, the best we could hope for was a deluge to wash away the festival grounds for good. An alluring thunderstorm began pouring out over Butt River as people stood and watched. Too bad everyone forgot their long metal rods at home because even getting struck by lightning would be more fun than this place.
The Brood, undiscouraged by the weather, put on an amazing set, with attendees crawling out of their tents to jump around in the rain. Whether it was a baptism, an act of catharsis, or purification, festival-goers joined in. It’s still uncertain whether the festival organizers realized that people actually enjoy The Brood, dismantling the illusion that anyone was having a terrible time.
Drifting into the early hours of the morning, Lewcid decided to keep us awake with an all original set. At least Collectif Hat, JM Jazz , BITS and Eye Candy lit up the stage to make it easier on the eyes.
For the attendees who were still up, bleary-eyed and hating sleep more than Messtival itself, the sun rose along with our hopes: realizing that this was almost the end.
Finally, Wobble Wallah made one last effort to inflict some happiness among the crowd, and it seemed as though it was almost working. One last shot to the eardrums to remember the festival by, a lasting and irreparable scar, before the long goodbye.
For ten years or more, Messtival stood as a testament to festivals everywhere: Here be dragons! Go no further! It was the line in the sand for any public gathering that wished to avoid violating the Geneva Conventions. It was our Waterloo and our Stockholm. But now it is time to lay Messtival to rest, throw down that last shovelful of dirt and place its gravestone, which reads:
Here lies Messtival, but who really cared anyway?
2008-2018
We’d reminisce about the good times – if only there were any…
PSA: As some of you may have heard, it was raining men that night, well one man as he climbed the stage and fell. Fortunately, he was alright, the staff acted quickly and the only thing that passed away was the festival. Please keep an eye on your friends and make sure they are okay at all times. If you see a lost soul at festival take a moment to help them out and get them to a safe place.
Don’t forget, folks! We’ve got even more photos from the festival and you can see them all on The East’s Patreon! Your support means we get do more to support Atlantic Canada’s arts and culture scene, and we might even send you a pin!